The last few pages
by John Locke
Summary: PG-13 for mild swearing. Challenge from Mugglenet.com, write the last few pages of Book 7, in under 1000 words. Kinda failed that part didnt I.... didnt win either... oh well.


A swirling wind ruffled the hair of every figure on what used to be school grounds. It was now a battlefield, a gravesite, and final resting point for many. The coppery smell overtook everybody's senses. All movement came to a stop when to figures where standing amongst the bloody ruin. "This is where it ends Tom, never again shall your foul face show itself ever again on this earth." Cruel words were spat with such an intense loathing there was no doubt that this young man could ever have been assumed to have pledged his allegiance to this man.   
  
~ Harry Potter, Friend or Foe, You decide.~  
  
/The ever increasing powers of the boy-who-lived has shown us that he indeed could be the next Dark Lord, possibly even more powerful than You- Know-Who himself. Sources show that the young Potter is now equipped with dark magic, and boundless at that. In contact with his fellow peers, they have described some rather disturbing thoughts. "There is this dark aura that just penetrates your soul. Everyone can tell that one wrong move could result in a very disastrous situation. We students fear for our lives whenever he displays his overpowering talents. With his ongoing information on the Dark Lord, he maybe even in coalition with the fiend himself."  
  
The youngest Weasley boy has quoted. Apparently even his friends fear for his turning his back to us, and joining You-Know-Who. If he has, we are in grave danger./  
  
Slamming the article down with a loud bang, the people around him jumped. "Weasley." The raven-haired boy snarled at the red head not to far down the table seemingly chatting happily away with Dean Thomas. Letting his emotions empower him, a dark tendril of magi burst forth from his palm, it ensnared the other boys chest lifting him off of his seat and placing him in front of the anger seething young man.  
  
"You dirty Son of a bitch. You know far more than any other I would never join the ranks of Voldemort." There were quite a few surprised gasps at the name. "Oh shut up. Get on with your worthless lives." He shouted at the gawking groups of students. The tendril grew tighter around Ronald, making him turn red in the face. The angrier he got, the tighter it got. "I do not even know, no wait, I do. You are a jealous bastard who always wanted to be like me. Always jealous of my powers, my fame. My unwanted fame. My fortune, that might I add was inherited because my parents are dead. You never really wanted to be my friend for me, only so you yourself could get famous from my fame. This is just like you common folk to be jealous of things that really are not special." His grip was getting restricting enough to be making Ronald now turn blue.  
  
So enraged he did not notice the ring of teachers trying to stop him. Finally snapping to his senses, or just noticing them, he turned, keeping his hold on Ron. "Back off." He spat at the Professors, this was exactly what he had feared, getting his powers fully exposed. "Let him go Mr. Potter." Dumbledore said kindly, and calmly. Without letting his tendril fall he sent out a shock wave, sending the professors flying against the tables. "Don't expect me to come back." He raised Ronald about ten feet in the air and throwing him to the floor with a crack, before shifting into what seemed like a shadow and dissipating away.  
  
~ That same night the school was attacked. Watching from a far away perch, Harry did nothing until he saw Voldemort himself. The fight had been horrible, people had been dying left and right, No curse had been deemed to horrible to be used in this all out battle. The light was out numbered and was soon depleting. Many students had been killed, bravely fighting for the younger students. ~  
  
Drawing his wand up Voldemort sneered distastefully. "It will be you the world will be mourning tomorrow. What, have you no wand? Pity. Going down pitifully." With a fateful swish of the wand made of Yew, a green jet of light shot out of the now still tip. The flashing light hit the stock standing figure. Cries rang out across the field as he fell down to the ground. A cold cruel laughter rang out over the cries.  
  
"Today is the start of a new reign. The dark reign of Voldemort!" The death eater cheered loudly, but were soon silenced as the slumped figure lying at the man's feet suddenly drew itself up and was standing once again.  
  
"You can never teach an old dog new tricks can you? Didn't work then, won't work now. Now you had your fun time, my turn." His emerald eyes were as darkened as they could be, unforgiving, harsh, and cruel. With a wave of his hand, a scream erupted from the man as a visible black tendril was ripping out what seemed to be his soul. The older witches and wizards new what was happening. A soul-shredding spell. The darkest of all spells ever created. Hardly knew of its existence, and none knew of the consequences, besides Harry himself.  
  
The former body of the dark lord fell into a heap, with cheers from the light wizards, that soon turned to gasps when their savior too collapsed just as the sun rose fully.  
  
~  
  
The few days after, there were celebrations, tears, cheers, and ceremonies. The biggest one of all was held on January 1st, 1998. Tear streaked faces were everywhere. In the center of the room stood a bier, holding up the purist white casket one has ever seen. In it held the body of The-Boy-Who- Lived-Conquered-And-Saved. The eulogy was performed, not by his "best- friend" but by his Godfather, who miraculously survived the battle. Leaning over the casket, Ronald Weasley, bent down to whisper in the now decorated deceased young man's ear. Whispering he was sorry, he traced a finger over the spot where it used to be. The accursed thing was gone. With killing Voldemort, it disappeared his scar was no more.   
  
~  
  
June 21st 1998  
  
"Today is a day to celebrate. We are now fully-fledge witches and wizards. Going out into the world, finding jobs, starting new families. All have accomplished great things. None more than the late Harry James Potter, a friend, a hero, a martyr. We all know he should be here, he is the one who saved us all." Tears choked up in the young woman's throat. Her eyes were welled up but she held her head high, in respect for the dead. "One of the most noble people I know, one of my best friends, I hope he finds happiness where ever he is. I dedicate my future to his memory. Forever live Harry Potter!" What the bushy haired girl did not know, at that very moment, he was watching the ceremony. For he might have been dead, his body, but spirits live on forever. In your hearts they stay, Harry Potter is alive in all the witches and wizards he saved that day. Never to be forgotten, to be always honored. And every day on December 30th, there would be toasts. "To Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Saved." 


End file.
